Hojo
by sankontesu
Summary: Why was I here? Was it because I wanted to see if she was sick, and aid her? Was it because I wanted to drop off the assignment for the day? Was it because I used to have a crush on Higurashi, and I couldn't help myself?


**A/N:** _I impulse wrote this. So Kagome and Hojo in my HC never really date, but there is the obvious one-sided unrequited love. But being the man I think Hojo is, I don't think he ever holds it against her. And I think he becomes a very good friend to Kagome and this my take of what would have happened if he had passed by her house on a day where she's having a mental and depressing break down from losing Inuyasha and the gang to the other side of the well._ **700 words.**

* * *

Higurashi Kagome wasn't in class today.

Although it's not unlike her. It's quite common place, since Higurashi has a tendency to fall ill more often than anyone I know.

But something about today made me feel uneasy. A strange supernatural desire to make sure she was not as sick as my subconscious had a tendency to fabricate, directed me like a compass.

So I walk back to my house, but take the long route. I meander through the unfamiliar streets and intersections, and scuff my shoes on the sidewalk as I pass by the telling stairway of her family's residence. I stop in front of it and let the breeze jostle my hair, listening to the sound of it jingling bells in the high distance.

I'd only been here a handful of times, but the intimidation of the steep white and red ribboned climb never ceased to make me question my motives.

 _Why was I here?_

Was it because I wanted to see if she was sick, and aid her? Was it because I wanted to drop off the assignment for the day? Was it because I used to have a crush on Higurashi, and I couldn't help myself?

Scratching the last possibility off that list, I decided that overall it was a terrible idea.

Whatever was wrong, wouldn't be corrected by my visitation. I hadn't even brought anything, so I would be ashamedly appearing empty handed.

But as I turn to continue down the way, I hear the light pitter patter of feet as they descended the stairs over the imperceptible clicking of my own shoes as they tap the concrete.

I glance across my shoulder-

And then I remember what it felt like when I was thirteen in history class where she sat right in front of me. A long string of phrases and words ran across my mind back then, as I wracked my brains trying to think of something, anything to say- but when I finally got the chance: a suggestion to lather and rinse with a brand name shampoo I had seen on a passing commercial came tumbling out. And seeing as these were not the common building blocks for stable companionship, my failed attempts became exactly that. Failed attempts. Her eyes had blinked at me cautiously and then with a diminutive grin, she turned and thanked me with a nod.

So we stayed distant and never friends, as we had done for the previous eight years when I first met her, and just as I would continue to do today and tomorrow, and probably the rest of my life.

Because I am Hojo, and she is Higurashi, and so how the story goes.

"Hojo?" she asks from the bottom of the steps.

Had I been staring at her that whole time?

Dear God.

I shield my eyes from the sinking sun, giving her my entire focus, and my reaction upon seeing her undernourished body, frantic eyes, and matted hair, was the convergence of two different thoughts at once: _she is the most gorgeous thing I have ever laid eyes on_ and _she barely looks alive._

"Higurashi," I smile big, because whenever I do she reflects it back as custom- but she doesn't. "I decided to take the long way to my home today. How have you been?"

I know the answer to this question can be nothing but negative, given her distressing look of pure and unrelenting grief, so I feel ridiculous for having asked at all.

Her fingers push at her frazzled hair and then she glances at me with wide scarlet-rimmed eyes. She looks like a terrified, wild creature who hadn't seen the light of day in years.

"I've been…" She trails off, as if lost. "Fine."

"Have you eaten?"

"What?" She says, almost like a snap.

I take a step closer to her and examine the pale complexion of her cheeks. I glance at her chapped lips, needing hydration and then to the top of her steps. "Do you have any leeks at the house, Higurashi?"

"L-leeks?"

"I have this sudden unquenchable desire to make some leek soup. Would it be okay if I made some and shared it with you?"

"A-at…at my house?" She blinks like she did all those years ago in History class.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, of course." I have never felt more stupid in my entire life, and I showed up to an 80's party in 1880 attire, instead of what the theme was intended for- on accident.

"Oh…" She's thoughtful for a minute, and my heart rolls to a desperately slow crawl. "No. It's not trouble, come on up. I'll go fetch the pots."

And so the story changes.


End file.
